


Saying "I Love You" In Hell

by cjg



Series: Moments Unseen [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Naked Cuddling, Nudity, Post-Coital Cuddling, spoilers up to episode 92
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjg/pseuds/cjg
Summary: The one where all written promises and deals made in the hells are apparently legally binding.OrThe one where he says I love you for the first time while in the third layer of hell and they deal with all the emotions that occur along with that situation.Vex seemed to think that they were having "the whole experience" that night.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uplxc5lB7cQ&t=7018s





	Saying "I Love You" In Hell

It’s not until she gets back on the bed after cleaning herself that he actually shows signs of not being asleep. 

He groans and shakes his head into the pillow when she gets closer to him. "I love you, but it’s just too hot to snuggle right now,” he says into his pillow, exhausted. 

The words catch her unprepared; it’s so much more than what she had expected him to say in this moment. They’re both usually a little sappy after sex, but this is somehow different. It’s the first time he’s said that to her so directly, and she’s not even sure he meant to say it. 

Looking over his fully relaxed body, her reply gets stuck down her throat, just a giggle escaping her lips when she remembers that he bothered to call it snuggling. 

Shifting away from him a little with the bag of colding in her hand, he turns his head to look at her slowly up and down. Percy’s face is beat red, redder than it should be, he takes her free hand and whispers so softly, “Yes, I know what I said.” 

Keeping eye contact and with a self-satisfied smirk on her face, she replies, “I agree with you.” Let him wonder which part she’s talking about. It doesn’t matter though; he already knows how she feels. 

He squeezes her hand three times gently before bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss just above her knuckles. 

When he gives her back her hand, she opens up the bag of colding while asking him, “So you worked up a sweat?”

“I think we both did,” he says with a satisfied yawn and shifting his hand a little closer to himself. His eyes widen with recognition when she brings out one of eight cool towels she made earlier with the water that remained in their water skins.

She has already freshened herself up with two of them, but now it’s his turn. Folding the one in her hand over and over, she moves the sweat-sodden hair that is clinging to the back of his neck and blows deliberately cool air onto his skin before placing the almost frozen towel there.

Twitching when it touches him, he moans as she lets it rest on his neck, dripping cold water onto the pillow as it melts.

She tosses the bag of colding toward the foot of the bed after taking out another towel. She runs it over his shoulders as gently as she can, being mindful of the nail marks and light scratches that she left on him. They’re already healing, but she doesn’t want to aggravate them.

Bringing it down before it melts entirely, she traces the lines of muscle down his back and arms before guiding the towel down his legs and over his ass, before leaving it unfolded covering his lower back. 

He closes his eyes and says, “Thank you,” into the pillow as she finishes.

“You are very welcome,” she says twisting a finger into his sweat damped hair. They’re all going to need baths so bad once they get home. 

They’re all getting home, she’s determined about that.

Neither of them has mentioned the deal since he signed the contract, but truthfully she wants to bring it up again and talk about the events of today just a little more. 

He had seemed so comforted when she told him she would fight for him. He could do with a little more of that feeling in his life. She remembers how his eyes went wide with shock for a moment before realizing that she meant what she said with everything that she is. 

It’s weird given what’s happened today, but a part of her wants to make that promise even more substantial. A written promise is certainly not as strange as some of the things that have already happened to them in hell today.

The thought of fighting for him isn’t as scary a thought as it could be. Even as she had said it out loud earlier, the words came out without hesitation. 

“Can I borrow your sketchbook for a bit?” she asks after a minute of thinking over the best way to go about this idea. 

Without even a nod he automatically reaches for the book where it is sitting on the nightstand on his side. Just by touch, he makes sure the pencil is securely in his grasp before picking up that and the book and passing it to her.

Taking it all from him, she puts it down on the bed before leaning over him to kiss the back of his head.

Settling against her pillow, she opens the book and hastily tries to reach the next blank page. Tickled in her search when she realizes that the newest twenty or so pages are all just drawings of her. She knows he’s been making a study of her, but she hadn’t realized it had gone this far.

Beyond her vision, he shifts a bit; the book hiding him from her view but she can feel him watching her. She reaches the last drawing and knows it was from the night they spent in Greyskull, the stones of the wall against her bed there unmistakable. Her back is to him, the sheet pooled at her waist. The scars on her back, the folds in the cloth, and the way he’s taken to drawing her hair when it is back in a braid are so exact, all the details are amazing.

He must have finished this shortly before he woke her up with kisses on her shoulders and back. She remembers turning toward him and being met with wonderful slow kisses that continued as he used his fingers until she was blissfully shaking in his arms. 

The memory of it is so distracting and enjoyable that she considers just closing the book and trying to recreate that with him, before thinking better of it a second later, she’s already too warm and so is he.

Turning the page instead, she begins to write. 

The words she’d meant to write don’t return to her as fluidly as she would like. 

Sighing softly and beginning again, she considers every word for longer than expected. It takes her a few minutes, but as she re-reads it for the seventh time, she finds herself happy with it.

Clearing her voice she asks, “How does this sound?” before she tilts the book away from her so she can see him as she reads it out loud, “I,_____________________________________________________________________________________, do promise to fight for and save Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III of the First House of Whitestone if any part of him is found to be in danger of being used by devilish, demonic, or any other unknown forces of evil after his death.”

There's a pause after she finishes. “Well?” she asks to break the silence. His mouth had opened slightly, but there was no other reaction from him as she read it.

His hand reaches out for hers again, when he has it he says, “I knew you meant what you said but this… It’s honestly incredibly comforting,” in-between placing several small kisses on the inside of her wrist. 

The attention slows as she sees the familiar look of inspiration settle on his face, turning to look more at her, he asks, “Dear, can I see that for a minute?" indicating the book she's still holding.

"It is your sketchbook," she says with a grin while passing it to him. 

He moves the pillow so that it's more under his chest, and opens the book out flat before him. Without looking, he reaches for his glasses that ended up between their pillows after they were finished earlier.

There is a strange look in his eyes every time he looks up from the page at her, something between concentration and adoration. She meets his eye in these moments and is rewarded with a flush appearing on his face. 

He’s drawing her again, she’s so sure of that for the first few minutes, but then he shakes his head and turns the page and starts writing something. Then it happens again, and she has to fight the urge to look. 

She keeps her eyes forward until he says, “Vex, tell me what you think,” as he passes her the book, a pleased look in his eyes.

I,___________________________________________________________________________________, do promise Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt not to enter into any agreements, be it written or otherwise, that may lead to the endangerment after death of my life, heart, mind, body, or soul from this moment forward.

She re-reads it again twice, not believing that the words are really there. 

He bunts his forehead into the side of her thigh, breaking her out of her thoughts. His forehead momentarily sticks to her leg as he turns away. 

Closing the pencil inside the book and putting it down on the other side of her. She looks down at him and he just seems so relaxed. It’s enviable really how at peace he looks, especially when she's still in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so calm about making someone a promise,” he says softly before kissing her thigh then tickling her sides lightly, effectively releasing the tension that’s in her body as she laughs.

Happy with his efforts, he flips over and shifts to be more upright and moves his pillows behind him, so they rest against the headboard. The towels drop onto the bed as he turns. 

She leans into his side once he’s settled, the light sheen of sweat on their bodies stick together at their shoulders. Every time she tries to speak no words seem right, she’s still so overwhelmed.

It's not until he softly sighs and says, “The next deal we have to make in hell, it’s someone else’s turn,” that she feels even remotely normal again. 

“Agreed,” she says while nodding her head.

Picking up the book, it opens easily to the page he wrote in because of the pencil. After reading it again, she turns to him as he says, “It will be very nice to sign something that I know for sure won’t come back to haunt me,” he chuckles a little to himself before continuing, “Actually, that’s not quite true. It’s one of the many wonderful differences between you and devils, dear, if I break this promise, I’d want you to haunt me.” 

Her eyebrow lifts just a bit before she’s unable to keep in a snort that transforms into a laugh.

“What? I enjoy your company,” he says quickly with a grin, trying to explain himself. 

Getting closer so her lips are a breath away from his jaw she says, “Silly,” a moment before she places a feather-light kiss right on his jawline, the skin there almost cool from the towel earlier. 

Another kiss is pressed just a little closer to his chin before she turns her attention back to the book in her hands. She still has a promise to add her name to.

Turning a page back in the book, that page has a draft of what he wrote on it, not nearly as polished as the finished version. The page before that is as she suspected, a hastily done sketch of her. It is just her profile, her hair up in its current style, braided and wrapped up around itself on the top of her head. In this sketch and in every other one before it, all her scars are accounted for.

Thinking it over, she realizes what she likes most about the way he draws her is that no one feature is exaggerated or simplified in any way. The amount of realism in his sketches shows her that he sees her for who she truly is, not some romanticized version that only exists in his mind. 

Turning her attention back to him, he looks at her a little questioningly, as if to ask, what’s wrong or are you alright?

Just a small nod to reassure him before she turns back one more page. Pencil in hand, she starts to write out her name and title for the first time on something so official.

As she finishes a similar flash and burning that happened as Percy signed the contract earlier occurs to her name.

“Well, isn't that unsettling. This is all very binding,” he says with a small sigh from beside her before he motions for her to pass him the book.

She starts to lay down but watches as he turns to the correct page and writes out his name. Once she’s laying on her right side toward him and he finishes writing, the same thing happens to his signature, she can’t help but say what’s on her mind, “We have to get out of this place.”

Closing the book and putting it on the nightstand he chuckles to himself and says, “My dear, truer words have never been spoken.”

Patting the bed a few times, he gets her meaning and shifts, taking his glasses off and putting them on top of his sketchbook. He moves to lay down next to her, tossing the towels that ended up under him towards the foot of the bed. 

He’s laying on his side facing her, keeping eye contact for about a minute before he asks, “You’re beautiful, you know that right?” so sincerely it makes her heart melt a little. 

Reaching out to run her thumb over his lips, she says, “Thank you.” Thinking about it she quickly adds, “After sex you’re incredibly sappy,” between nervous giggles.

His face instantly reacting as she finishes, his nose smushes inward like he just smelled something unpleasant and his eyebrows bush up more than they usually do.

“What is it?” she asks, moving her fingers up to relax his eyebrows. It works, his whole face returns to normal in a matter of moments, but he still looks so vulnerable.

“It’s just…” he starts, trying to find his words. He takes her hand from his face and just holds it and looks at her before he asks, “Making love, isn’t that more what this is?” so hesitantly it hurts her to hear it in his voice because he’s right of course, this must be what making love is.

She’s never been with someone she's loved before. Gods, there’s that word again, the one that makes her heart pound. People should talk more about how right everything feels when you love the person you are with.

Needing to be closer, now unable to handle being the foot away from him, she rises and shifts closer to his side, and he instantly rolls on to his back so she can straddle him. Every inch of her skin lightly sticks to his.

Once she’s laying on top of him, she takes hold of his face in her hands, running her thumbs back and forth along his cheekbones she nods and asks, “Alright, have I ever said that you are incredibly sappy after we make love?” 

He wraps his arms around her, and his left-hand starts to run his fingers up and down her spine as he smiles and says, "No, you haven’t actually. You get that way too, it’s lovely,” as he says this a pleasant shiver runs down her spine and goosebumps rise on her body, which is something she once thought would be impossible in hell.

Leaning in closer to kiss him, she wiggles against him just enough to make him moan. She swallows the noise as he opens his mouth. Moving her hands to his shoulders to keep them close. The fingers of his right hand entangle themselves into her braid. The kiss is languid and gentle. She never wants it to stop.

The kiss does end eventually when he tilts her head just a bit so he can softly kiss her forehead, his arms then returning to her back and his slow slide up and down her spine resumes.

Considering her words and what to say next, he looks at her in that particular way that makes her stomach flip, and she just blurts out what last went through her mind, “Don’t die, ok?” as she said it his smile drops, his face suddenly serious.

“I have no intentions of leaving you, my love,” he says taking her hands from where they were on his chest. He brings their hands up, so they rest together right above his head. She has no doubts that he means what he says and while that wasn’t exactly an answer to the question, for now, it is enough.

She moves forward enough to press her lips quickly to his right cheek, just a peck really before she says, “I love you,” softly into his ear. 

Letting go of his hands, she runs her fingers down his arms and over his shoulders until he reacts to being tickled. While he’s laughing, she says just loud enough so that he can hear, “I’m not dying anytime soon either.”

The reaction from him is immediate, his arms holding her to him, firmly at first but slowly over the next few minutes that lessens.

While trying to move off of him when she’s a bit freer, his arms tighten around her again, keeping her close, “What happened to it being too hot to snuggle?” she asks giggling in his ear, amused. 

“Just until it gets too unbearably hot,” he says with a relaxed expression on his face which transforms as she settles down on top of him. A pleased smile on his lips as his eyes open and she can see that the only thing he wants right now is for her to stay exactly where she is.

So she does just that because, gods, even though she's warm, he's ridiculously comfortable like this and a few more minutes would be nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated.


End file.
